


angel tears

by prsseux



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, Hurt/Comfort, Jace Izzy and Robert are only mentioned, Malec is implied, Maryse deserves nice things, Mother-Son Relationship, POV Alec Lightwood, Protective Alec Lightwood, thinking about it so is magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prsseux/pseuds/prsseux
Summary: Alec hadn’t thought much about it, after all, Hodge was kind of old — and old people said strange things sometimes, right?
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Maryse Lightwood/Robert Lightwood
Comments: 3
Kudos: 92





	angel tears

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me Tuesday evening during a ridiculously strong storm, which I later found out was a cyclone lmao I was also craving some cute moments between Alec and Maryse, but this time from Alec's point of view, which was very new to me and I hope it doesn't make him sound too ooc. All the mistakes here are my own, we're dying like men on this one, so excuse the horrible punctuation. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this~

Alexander Lightwood was six years old when he concluded, with utmost certainty, that his mother was an angel. The rain poured over New York City, uncaring of the young Shadowhunter watching the skies with a pout on his rosy lips; wanting more than anything to be allowed outside.

He had been dismissed from his rune lesson with Hodge, the older Shadowhunter growing frustrated at Alec’s lack of focus. Waving his hand, telling him to go find something to entertain himself with for the time being. And as Alec exited the library, he heard Hodge sighing.

“ _When angels cry, the sky pours..._ ”

Alec hadn’t thought much about it, after all, Hodge was kind of old — and old people said strange things sometimes, right? So he went to his room, and there he played around with his toys for a while, taking note of how much they had dwindled over the years. His father had mentioned Alec was getting too old for toys, now for every birthday, he’d get weapons.

When action figures couldn’t entertain him anymore, he read a chapter of the book Hodge assigned him. He should at least attempt to not make him upset by his lack of dedication. And when that also began to bore him, Alec settled to watch the storm.

It was an ugly one. The winds seemed to be getting stronger, their howls sending chills down his spine and for once he was glad Izzy was travelling with their father. He just hoped the weather would be better in Los Angeles than it was in New York.

Thinking of Isabelle and his father sparked an idea into his head. He could always count on his mum to keep him company! Surely, she would have something for him to do, a mission no matter how small. Letting his feet carry him through the familiar path to his parents’ office, Alexander had a smile on his face. He liked spending time with his mother — they didn’t get to do it that often anymore, he had more lessons to attend now, and she seemed to be growing more busy. But Alec could vaguely remember a time where they’d spend so much time together, that she would be the first person he saw as he woke, and the last person he saw as he went to sleep. He kind of missed that.

The young boy did not even stop at the imposing wooden door, opening it without a care in the world only to freeze as he walked inside.

His mother stood in front of the large window, her back to him, but as the noise of the door startled her, she turned and Alec felt his little heart clench. Her eyes were all red. However, what really shocked him was that the moment a tear rolled down her cheek, lightning tore through the sky. It illuminated the slightly dim office, almost blinding the six-year-old — although if asked years later, he wouldn’t be sure whether it was the lightning or the sight of his mother in pain that had been so blinding.

He watched as more tears fell down her face and the rain seemed to intensify.

“Alexander?” she called out to him, her voice much softer than he had ever heard before. This felt wrong; she wasn’t supposed to sound like that. And because he didn’t know what to say, how to make her feel better, Alec just held his arms up. A silent request to be held, just like he used to do when he was a toddler.

Surprisingly, his mother immediately picked him up, holding him against her tightly. He clung to her, breathing in her familiar scent and feeling himself relaxing.

“It’s alright, Alec. You don’t have to be scared, the storm will be over soon...,” she cooed at him, rubbing circles down his back and he simply nodded. He wasn’t scared, he just didn’t want her to be upset, he just didn’t want her to cry...

When angels cry, the sky pours.

That was what Hodge has said, and Alec understood now. His mother was sad, she was crying, and so the skies were responding to her. Because she was an angel.

It all made sense.

Despite being met with similar situations throughout the years — where the skies seemed to turn grey every time his mother’s blue eyes darkened with sadness — Alec has been only six when he made that crucial discovery, therefore its memory was bound to slip his mind.

It was only fifteen years later, that he remembered that day.

This storm was unrelenting, two straight days of incessant rainfall, winds strong enough to rattle the institute and Alec was really starting to worry about the building’s integrity in the aftermath. It was then that he found her, sitting on the couch in her office, face hidden within her small hands as her shoulders shook so strongly, Alec feared his tiny mother would fall apart.

Immediately he knew why she wept. There was only one person capable of making his mother — the strongest woman he knew — cry like that.

“What did Robert do this time?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. Alec remembered the day the word father left his vernacular when it came to Robert. The look on his mother’s face as she asked him and Jace not to mention the man’s infidelity to Isabelle, the way he could almost see her heart slowly cracking like the most frail of crystals as she tried to be strong.

That was the day his father became Robert to him.

He heard her gasp, perhaps a mix between a sob and a laugh, although Alec couldn’t be sure. Then she was lifting her head, her blue eyes shining painfully, that’s when two tears slid down her cheeks and the skies revolted.

Alexander’s own sapphire eyes went wide, because he had seen this before. Thunder and lightning roared outside, the wind howling like a dying wolf.

When angels cry, the sky pours

When angels cry, the sky pours

When angels cry, the sky pours

“He’s getting married...” she whispered, voice so small all Alec wanted was to wrap her in his arms — or alternatively, punch his dad really hard. With shaky hands, she handed him a piece of paper.

Well, not quite a piece of paper but a wedding invitation addressed to Maryse Trueblood & Children. The neat penmanship told Alexander the person who had written it, was definitely not his father.

Carelessly placing the invitation on the ground, he turned his attention back to her. Seeing her like that would always make him balk at just how young his mother was. She was thirty-five, only fifteen years older than he was. They could be seen as siblings. Thinking about it always put her actions into perspective for him, especially now that he knew what his father was truly like.

“I know it’s stupid to be this upset...” she had begun, avoiding his equally blue eyes. And Alec wanted to protest, because it really wasn’t, but he knew he had to let her finish. “I just—I just don’t know why it still hurts this much.”

He understood the nature of his parents’ marriage now. He was twenty and no longer was a child, so he knew there never any love there to begin with, but it still didn’t make it right for his father to cheat. Alec especially knew how his mother felt because if he put himself in her situation he would feel the same way. They were always so similar in their reactions. “Mum, you’ve been with him since you were fifteen. You stood by him no matter what, you took the blame for things he did more times than I can count. You took over the institute when he was faltering; you took over the task of cleaning up his family’s name, not only that but you had his children. He made you, and the Angel, a promise that day, and he had no right to break it. It is natural for you to still hurt. He betrayed you, he betrayed us.”

Perhaps to some this would be an overly harsh way to approach things, but Alec and his mother disliked roundabouts, they had been raised as soldiers. Straightforwardness is the best way to get through to them.

He watched her nod, blinking back more tears. It wasn’t okay yet, but he knew she’d be fine — he’d help her through it, Izzy, Jace and Max right by his side too.

“At least he used my maiden name, calling me a Lightwood on his wedding invitation would have been...awkward.” She said causing Alec to chuckle, his thighs were starting to protest being flexed for so long but he did not stand up. Instead, he reached out to dry her cheeks, thumb brushing away a few stray teardrops.

“We might have to thank his fiancée for that.” He pointed out, and watched as she scrunched up her nose. The idea of thanking the Highsmith woman as revolting to her as it was to him apparently.

“Thank you, Alexander. I don’t know what I would do without you.” The way she was looking at him made him feel so loved, and so safe. It was a feeling he only felt when her eyes were on him, something unlike anything he had ever felt around other people. A mother’s love.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mum. Just—just don’t waste any more of your angel tears on him. He’s not worth it.”

“Angel tears?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side curiously. And Alec bit his lip, a mix of mischief and shyness in his eyes.

“When angels cry, the sky pours...” he simply said, standing up and leaning to place a soft kiss on her forehead. As he approached the door, he heard her dissolve into a mess of giggles.

And he was unable to stop himself from smiling too.

Outside, the winds seemed to let up, their painful howls ceasing as the rain too lost its grieving strength.

When angels cry, the sky pours; that is what Hodge has said all those years ago. Yet he forgot to mention that it is an Angel’s happiness, which allows the sun to shine. So when he looked outside as he arrived at Magnus’ loft through a portal, and saw the first few glimmers of sunshine after two days of pouring rain, he knew back at the institute, Maryse Trueblood was smiling.


End file.
